


Tip the Scales

by thethaumas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Sectumsempra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethaumas/pseuds/thethaumas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all it takes is one drop to tip the scales. A drop of love, a drop of envy, a drop of remorse, any can change the course. What might have happened if events had tipped another way? What could have happened after the sectumsempra scene had Harry's scales tipped in a different way that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tip the Scales

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quiddative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiddative/gifts).



> A birthday fic for the ever lovely quiddative! Happy birthday my dear! I hope you enjoy.

The night was cold, and the damp from the old castle walls chilled Harry to the bone. He pulled his invisibility cloak tighter around himself as he crept silently through the halls. After being in the hospital wing so many times since he started at Hogwarts, Harry was nearly sure he could make it all the way there from Gryffindor tower in his sleep.

There was no sleep for him tonight.

Harry knew he was getting off horribly lightly for the crime he'd committed, and it was a crime. It didn't matter that he had no idea what the spell could have done, he'd nearly murdered another student. It had been a long day since he had faced Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and Harry's thoughts kept circling the same drain they tended to go down: _was he really any different from the boy Tom Riddle had been once?_ It didn't matter what Hermione, Ron, or Ginny said--Harry had to do something to prove to himself he wasn't turning into Voldemort.

Which was why he stood in front of the closed doors to the hospital wing now. He had the map open in front of him and it looked like Madam Pomfrey had turned in for the night, while Malfoy was the only occupant in the wing. Harry steeled himself for a moment, knowing he had no right to barge in, but feeling like this was what he needed to do. With another sharp intake of the cold castle air, Harry pushed open one of the doors and quietly slipped inside.

It was a dark night, and the hospital wing was pretty creepy at night to begin with. Harry edged his way around a number of empty beds, weaving his way over to the only occupied one where Malfoy was lying under a white sheet. Harry's heart was in his throat, he was suddenly sure that he'd managed to kill Malfoy, despite how no one had said anything of the sort. His pace quickened and he was soon upon Malfoy's bed. Harry stood staring at the other boy for a long moment, reassured by the light rise and fall of Malfoy's chest, so much so that Harry let out a breath of his own in relief and sagged where he stood. He pulled his invisibility cloak off and held it loosely in his arms.

Harry needed to talk to Malfoy, but right then all he seemed to want to do was sit there and watch him sleep, just to reassure himself that Malfoy was alive. He found an empty chair and quietly levitated it over so he could sit down but still keep an eye on Malfoy. Harry flopped down into the chair and put his head in his hands. He'd done this. He had foolishly trusted an unknown spell from an unknown source and now he had nearly killed someone. Harry pushed his glasses on top of his head and rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. Every time he closed them he could see Malfoy on the floor in the bathroom, his blood swimming down the drain. Harry felt sick with remorse. How could he be anyone's saviour when he went around slicing up his fellow students? How could he be what they needed to take down Voldemort when he made mistakes like this? Harry always knew he wasn't anything special, but now he knew he was even worse.

Harry pulled his hands away from his eyes, they came away wet, and his vision swam with tears. He tried to blink them away, but every time his vision cleared he saw Malfoy's prone form on the bed and his eyes filled again. He took in a shuddering breath and tried to calm down.

A rustling noise came from Malfoy's bed, and Harry hurriedly swiped at his eyes in time to see Malfoy was awake and staring at him. Malfoy's whole expression was a mask of trepidation and naked fear, and Harry swallowed hard in the face of it. "Have you come to finish me off then?" Malfoy's harsh whisper echoed oddly in the large room.

"No." Harry responded quickly, his voice wrecked and shaking his head violently. "No, I didn't mean to--I didn't know what the spell would do." He tried to explain, but even to his own ears the words sounded inadequate. "I'm sorry, Malfoy." Harry whispered, the words strange and oddly illicit feeling, being directed to who they were.

Malfoy was glaring at him, but he hadn't moved to try to alarm anyone of Harry's presence, so Harry felt a little hopeful. He wasn't sure what he wanted to accomplish coming here, but having the chance to speak with and apologize to Malfoy gave him hope that something good could come from his horrific mistake.

"You nearly killed me and you expect me to forgive you just because you said 'I'm sorry'?" Malfoy's voice was low and venomous. "I don't know if your thick head forgot, but I am not one of your little fan club. A half-assed apology from you means nothing to me."

Harry sat up straighter and swiped his eyes dry with the back of his hand. He placed his glasses back on his nose so he could see Malfoy better. "I don't expect you to forgive me," he said quickly, quietly. "I just," he gestured vaguely with his hands in an attempt to explain himself better. "I just wanted to see if you were okay; I really didn't mean to hurt you like that."

Malfoy scoffed and sat up on the bed. His hands were gripping his sheet so tightly his knuckles were white. Harry wondered if Malfoy would always be this scared of him now. The knot that had formed in his stomach hours ago tightened even more at the thought.

"Look, you really don't have to forgive me, Malfoy, but I am sorry. I don't want you to be afraid of me--"

"Afraid of you?" Malfoy asked with a sneer. "I'm not afraid of you, Potter. I'm afraid of one wizard and it's not you," he finished, his fingers worrying the sheet they grasped.

"Oh," Harry was surprised, it sure seemed like Malfoy was afraid of him now. "Who then? Voldemort?"

"Don't say his name, you fool!" Malfoy whispered harshly, his eyes darting around the shadows in the hospital wing like he expected Voldemort to emerge from them at any moment.

Harry felt weirdly jittery and buried his hands in the folds of the cloak in his lap to keep himself from doing something stupid like reaching out for Malfoy. "I'm afraid of him too," Harry said quietly while staring down at his lap. He knew then with a strange suddenly surety that he wanted to help Malfoy.  That he needed to.

When Harry chanced looking up, Malfoy was looking at him with unguarded surprise. It quickly fell away to a mask of contempt when Malfoy saw him looking. "Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid of him." Malfoy looked away then, his gaze turning to the dark windows across from his bed. "Though, if you're the one that's supposed to save us all from his madness, and even you are afraid, what hope is there for the rest of us?" Malfoy asked, his voice tight.

"There's always hope, Malfoy." Harry said fiercely. Even if he had trouble with keeping his own hopes up, he had to believe that Dumbledore was right, and that there was hope that one day they could live in a world free of Voldemort. Harry shifted in his chair as he watched Malfoy carefully. He wanted to get Malfoy to stop whatever his mission was. Harry knew the war was closing in on them, but even with their years of animosity he could not abide the thought of facing some of his classmates in a battle. Even the Slytherins. Maybe especially them. Harry knew what it was like to grow up with all those around him telling him how horrible he was, and that small child inside of him that had just wanted to be accepted was loathe to stand on opposite sides to a war to those like him.

Harry just did not know how to extend his hand to Malfoy now, after everything that had transpired between them. Malfoy was frowning at him, and for some reason that gave him courage.

"You don't have to do it, you know." Harry said, holding Malfoy's gaze.

Malfoy blinked and physically recoiled saying sharply, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? He's given you some kind of mission hasn't he? It's why you’re always in the Room of Requirement. I don't know what you're doing in there Malfoy, but I know it's because of him."

"You don't understand anything, Potter. I don't have a choice." Malfoy's eyes were wide and his voice was higher than usual. He reached over and took his wand off the side table, casting a silencing charm around them saying, “We can’t have this conversation in the open.”

Harry leaned forward in his chair and quirked a self deprecating smirk saying, "I might be the only person in the whole school who really can understand that."

Malfoy sniffed and leaned back against the head of the bed, crossing his arms. "So what is this? Are you trying to relate to me to get me to do what you want? I don’t have a fucking choice, Potter. He'll kill my family. I know that's a foreign concept for you, but they are important to me."

Harry let out a laugh, "Merlin, you are such a shit. I know your family is important to you, Malfoy, you've made that rather clear these past six years. You do have a choice though. There's always a choice."

"That's easy for you to say. He'll kill me and my family if I don't finish this." Malfoy repeated, and Harry noticed how his hands were gripping his arms so tight as if he could hold himself together just like that.

Harry nodded and said, "Yeah, okay. And I guess it is easy for me, since he's only been after killing me since I was a baby." Harry added sarcastically. He raised his hand and gave in to the impulse to wrap it around Malfoy's ankle in front of him. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, Malfoy. But I am telling you that you have a choice here. You don't have to be one of his pawns."

"No, I'd just be one of yours, isn't that right?" Malfoy sneered and glared at the hand Harry had on his leg.

"Not at all." Harry said with a laugh. "I don't need pawns."

Malfoy was watching him with guarded and calculating eyes. "No," he said, "you just built up an army last year for fun then?"

"I started the DA because we needed to learn how to truly defend ourselves against the people you're so hesitant to sever your alignment with. You know them. You know they wouldn't hesitate to bring their worst even if they were up against children." Harry said vehemently.

Malfoy dropped his gaze and released his death grip on himself, shifting his legs a little and jostling Harry's hand. "No," his voice was quiet. "No, they wouldn't care." He let out a long shuddering breath and looked up at Harry. For a moment, Harry was completely taken aback by how lost Malfoy looked. In the dark hospital wing the white sheets seemed dingy, but Malfoy's pale complexion made him look a bit like he was glowing, and the effect stole Harry’s breath away. "I don't want to die, Potter."

"Good," Harry said with a small grin and squeezed Malfoy's leg before releasing it. "I'm not too keen on it either. But if you're up for it, I think we can figure out a way to keep you and your parents safe." Harry paused and frowned, "Well, I can't guarantee anyone's safety, but we can keep try."

"You're really selling your side well here, Potter." Malfoy said sardonically with a raised eyebrow.

He smoothed his hands over the sheet on his legs and Harry was distracted momentarily by the movement.  He'd never spent this much time in close proximity to Malfoy before, it was making him think strange things. Like how his legs were nice and long, or how the stress of the year had thinned him out a lot and let him looking drawn out and a bit bug eyed. Harry knew he was skinnier than a boy his age should be, but looking at Malfoy now made Harry wish he'd thought to steal some food from the kitchens before coming here. Malfoy sure looked like he could use a good meal.

Then Malfoy caught his eye again and Harry felt frozen by the look Malfoy was giving him. "After all this time, are you honestly offering me your hand?" Malfoy asked, and then in a movement completely uncharacteristic of the boy Harry had come to know as his schoolyard rival, he bit his lower lip. That small anxious movement made the guilt and the fierce protectiveness in Harry rise up with roar inside him.

"Yes." Harry said immediately, knowing that they were deciding something huge in the quiet of the late hour. "Yes, I am. And I hope you won't rebuff me." Harry added and extended his open hand toward Malfoy.

Malfoy looked at Harry's hand for a long moment before he looked back up to Harry's face. "I should. So you can know how it feels," he said, but he was wearing a small smile. He reached over and clasped Harry's hand in his. "But I'm not as foolish as you." Malfoy shook Harry's hand and then released him.

"No, I suppose in this at least, you aren't." Harry said with a grin. He wasn’t sure how, but it looked like he'd done it. Malfoy wanted to come to their side. Harry knew Malfoy was likely already questioning his loyalties far before this, but it still gave him hope that maybe things could turn out okay.

Malfoy sat back against the headboard and look out around the hospital wing, and then he looked back at Harry and said, “Now what?”

“We should go to Dumbledore,” Harry responded, watching Malfoy carefully.

He didn’t disappoint, he scoffed again, tossing his head back. “That old man? How’s he going to help?”

Harry noticed the way Malfoy’s eyebrows were drawn and the skin around his eyes was tight, he’d bet anything Malfoy was nervous and Harry wouldn’t blame him for being so. “He’ll help, if anyone knows how to get you out of your mission, it’ll be him.” Harry was sure of this, even if he sometimes felt unsure about where he stood with Dumbledore, he knew the Headmaster would do what he could to help a student in need. Even if he did seem a little more fragile this year than he ever had before.

Malfoy seemed only a little appeased and sat quietly for a moment before saying, “I need to be sure they’ll be okay.”

“We’ll do what we can, Malfoy, I promise.” Harry assured him, even though he wasn’t sure at all how they would be able to keep the Malfoys safe. Especially if, as he suspected, Lucius Malfoy would likely not agree to leave his master’s side. He did not mention this, now was not the right time for it. Harry was far more interested in saving Malfoy himself from a future where they might actually have to face each other in battle. Harry knew now he wouldn’t be able to take it.

“Were you actually crying over me?” Malfoy asked suddenly, jarring Harry from his thoughts.

He blinked and looked up at Malfoy who was watching him eagerly for a response. There wasn’t one to give that could save face for Harry, Malfoy had seen his mess of tears already. Instead he said, “I told you, I didn’t know what the spell did. I thought I’d killed you.”

Malfoy seemed taken aback by this confession, by the way his mouth gaped open slightly and he seemed to have nothing to say for a good minute. “Well you didn’t,” he said at last, and then quite alarmingly he started unbuttoning the shirt he had on. Harry sat up, not sure what he should do or what Malfoy was after now. “You did maim me though, I mean look at this,” Malfoy said and opened his shirt to show off angry pink lines that criss-crossed his torso. “Pomfrey says it’ll fade, but I should expect scarring.”

Harry sucked in a noisy breath at the sight of the lasting damage he had caused. Without even realizing it, he had extended his hand, wanting to touch the markings he’d left. When he noticed what he was doing he balled his hand into a fist and let it drop back down to his lap. “I’m so sorry, Malfoy,” he said quietly, deeply ashamed of himself.

“So you’ve said,” Malfoy said primly and buttoned the shirt back up. "Where did you even find a spell that didn't also tell you what it could do?"

Harry buried his hands in the folds of his cloak and swallowed hard. "It just said 'for enemies' so knew it'd be something, but I had no idea it was intended to kill."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, "What else would you want to do to your enemy?" Then he shook his head and waved his hands, "Actually you're a noble Gryffindor, of course you wouldn't want to kill your enemy. And Pansy thinks I'm ridiculou." Malfoy said under his breath and then looked back up at Harry. "But where did you even find such a spell?"

Harry flushed, remembering Hermione' s objections to using the Half Blood Prince's book. Turned out she was right not to trust it. "It was in my potions textbook." He said quietly.

If Malfoy was surprised before, he was even more so now. "What kind of potions textbook are you using? Potions for the Budding Dark Lord?" He asked with a laugh.

Harry bristled at Malfoy's flippant remark, it wasn't as though he could know that Harry was dearly afraid that he was becoming Voldemort, but his words hit the mark effortlessly anyway. "No, it was just some old used one in the cabinet in Slughorn's class. There were all these helpful notes in the margins, this seemed like one of them."

Malfoy sat up straighter, suddenly much more interested in the conversation. "Are you telling me that spell was invented? And by a student no less? Do you have any idea who had the book before you?" He ran his hands over his thighs and was looking avidly at Harry.

“No,” Harry said, unsure if he should tell Malfoy about the name the student had used or not. He didn’t really see any harm in it, so he said, “They did use the name the Half-Blood Prince. That’s all I know.” He finished with a shrug.

Malfoy pressed his lips together in a thin line and Harry was taken aback by how much sharper that made his features appear. "I wonder who that could have been," he said after a moment.

Harry shrugged, "Whoever it was they should definitely be more clear by their meaning."

Malfoy's gaze snapped to him and Harry was surprised to see the shade of a smile tugging at his lips. "So what now, Potter?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at Harry. "Shall I take a pledge of fealty or something?"

A surprised laugh escaped from Harry's mouth. "No, I think we should go to Dumbledore in the morning."

“So you’ve said,” Malfoy frowned, "I'm not going to his side. I'm siding with you."

Harry sat back in his chair and gave Malfoy a confused look. "What's the difference?"

"I think I'd be safer aligned to you, instead of giving my loyalty to that scheming old man." He looked at Harry for a long moment, "I don't believe that you have it in you to be as manipulative as him."

"Thanks? I think." Harry said with a small smile. He didn't agree with Malfoy about Dumbledore, but Harry wasn't sure if he completely disagreed with him either. There were a growing number of things Dumbledore said, didn't say, or did that had Harry feeling uneasy about all the Headmaster must know but didn't feel fit to share. "I guess in that case we should talk to Ron and Hermione tomorrow. You will end up working with us, won't you?"

"I have always wondered if Granger was the whole brains of your little operation there." Malfoy said with a smirk. "I suppose so. I imagine I probably have some useful information." Harry nodded, Malfoy probably did, even just from random artefacts in his home. "You want to know what my mission is, don't you?" Malfoy asked quietly, fingers digging into the sheet on top of him.

Harry was practically aching with a need to know. But he didn't want to spook Malfoy, he was very aware that any agreement they made right now was tenuous at best. "If you'd rather wait until tomorrow, we can do that."

"Ugh. Tomorrow." Malfoy groaned and flopped back on the bed and covered his face with his hands. "Life's about to get a lot harder isn't it?"

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed with a small grin. It was good to see the overdramatics he was accustomed to from Malfoy. It made him feel like things weren't quite so serious, even though he knew that was far from the case.

Malfoy glanced at Harry through his fingers and let out an amused huff. Then he said, "Aren't you uncomfortable? Those chairs look horrid."

Harry looked down at the chair he sat in with amusement. It wasn't often he was in the hospital wing and not the one being visited, so he was not at all familiar with the chairs. They were pretty uncomfortable, but he was a little worried that if he admitted as much Malfoy would tell him to leave, and a part of Harry was afraid that if he left it would turn out that all of this had been a dream produced by his guilt ridden subconscious. Instead of saying anything, he just looked back up at Malfoy and shrugged.

"Don't be an idiot," Malfoy said and kicked his feet before pulling his legs back toward himself. "Since you seem determined to speak to me all night you may as well sit somewhere slightly more comfortable than those awful chairs." He gestured to the foot of the bed with a magnanimous hand.

Harry let out a snort of laughter before he toed off his shoes and climbed onto the foot of Malfoy's bed. "All right?" He asked as he draped his cloak over his lap again.

“Yeah, all right.” Malfoy was looking at his cloak curiously, “So that’s your invisibility cloak?”

It was light and a little warm in Harry’s hands and he couldn’t stifle the urge to smile down at the cloak. “Yeah,” he said, and then quieter, “It was my dad’s.”

Malfoy’s had had been creeping up like he wanted to reach out and touch the cloak for himself, but at Harry’s words he curled his hand back into a loose fist and let it fall back into his lap. “Oh,” he whispered. His gaze was riveted on the cloak for a moment and Harry almost offered to let him handle it, but then Malfoy seemed to shake himself and he looked up at Harry's face. Then he picked up his wand to strengthen the silencing charm they were surrounded by. "I'm--" he swallowed hard and shook his head again. Harry sat forward, eager to hear what it was Malfoy was having trouble with. "I have to kill Dumbledore." He finished in a rush of words.

For a moment, Harry couldn't make sense of the words. It was as though Malfoy had said it in French, his mind had so much trouble parsing them. Then they hit him like a bludger. "Kill Dumbledore?" He asked quietly.  The idea was so foreign to Harry it seemed like an impossible feat. He looked up at Malfoy, who was biting his lip again as he watched Harry, and Harry knew he had a lost expression on his face.  "How?"

At this, Malfoy laughed. "That's the thing. He doesn't care how, so long as Dumbledore is dead at the end of it. But it doesn't matter what I try, nothing works. And it's not like I can just waltz up to him, cast the killing curse, and walk away." He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "It's an impossible task."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. Even with whatever was killing Dumbledore's hand, Malfoy was tasked with killing one of the most powerful wizards alive. It was almost as though-- "Do you think he expects you to fail?"

Malfoy looked up sharply at that.  "Why would--"

"He's mad, Malfoy.  You can't apply logic to his reasoning. But in this, perhaps." Harry paused, not sure if he should say what he was thinking. Then he decided it certainly couldn't hurt anything more. "Maybe he wants you to fail to punish your father?"

Malfoy let out a breath in a quiet hiss of air and presses his face against his arms so his mouth was hidden, but he was staring at Harry with eyes wide and full of pain. Then he closed his eyes slowly and dropped his head to bury his face in his arms.

Harry watched as he took in a few deep breaths, his shoulders expanding and collapsing as he did. It was difficult to quell the urge to try to comfort him, and Harry was surprised by this. This was Malfoy, after all.

"If--" Malfoy's voice was muffled by his arms but Harry could hear his audible swallow nonetheless. "If I was always intended to fail, then--" he broke off again and looked up at Harry. Malfoy looked so lost and wrecked and Harry couldn't handle it. He scooted a bit closer on the bed so he could put a hand on one of Malfoy's folded arms. Malfoy didn't seem to notice. He closed his eyes again and let out a shuddering breath. "Then I am supposed to die. To punish father for failing."

Harry squeezed his arm saying, "You're not going to," with a rough voice. "He isn't going to win, and certainly not in this." He couldn’t let it happen. Harry couldn’t stand the thought of more of his classmates falling dead on the ground. “ _Kill the spare”_ flashed in his mind for a moment and Harry had to push down the accompanying wave of grief. No. He wouldn’t let Voldemort take anyone else. Not if he could help it, and right now he _could_ help it, with Malfoy at least.

Malfoy looked curiously at the hand on his arm and then he met Harry's gaze. "How can you stop him?"

Harry grimaced, "I'm not sure yet. But I will." He said, trying to sound more sure about the whole thing than he really felt. He didn’t know how he could stop Voldemort, but he knew he would.

“You really have to be the hero, don’t you?” Malfoy quirked a smile, it was a far more gentle thing than Harry was accustomed to seeing in his face and for a moment, the air left his lungs. The sharpness of Malfoy’s face was offset by the curve of his small smile, and Harry felt something in his mind unlock with a little _oh_. Even though he still looked far too thin and his eyes were too bruised and sunken in, there was something hard and fierce that was bracketed by this sliver of gentleness he was allowing Harry to see, and it was beautiful. He was beautiful. Harry abruptly looked away from Malfoy, feeling a flush creeping up his neck and hoping wildly that it was far too dark in the hospital wing for Malfoy to see. He quickly took his hand back from where it was still wrapped around Malfoy’s arm.

What was he _thinking_? Malfoy was a guy. Guys weren’t _beautiful_. Harry mentally shook himself, this was definitely not the time or the place for thinking such things. And anyway, Harry was pretty sure he wanted to be with Ginny. There was a war on, one he needed to play a part in, and there was no time for finding men beautiful. But then Harry looked back over at Malfoy, and he was sitting still, watching Harry quietly while still looking stupidly pretty to Harry. He had to mentally backtrack to remember what Malfoy had said, since it seemed he was waiting for a response.

“Well, you know, Gryffindor and all that,” Harry said with a small, forced laugh. Merlin, what was going on with him.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “Yes, quite.” He shifted and let his legs splay out again, his feet ended up touching Harry’s legs from under the sheet that separated them.

“We’ll have to figure out some way to make it seem like you succeeded.” Harry said after a minute, trying very hard not to think too much about the warm seeping in through his pants from where Malfoy’s feet rest against him.

“How?” Malfoy asked, pursing his lips together in thought.

Harry couldn’t think of anything right then, the lateness of the hour combined with how stressed he’d felt over what he’d done to Malfoy finally was catching up with him. He couldn’t suppress a yawn that was big enough he felt his jaw pop. "I'm not sure yet." Harry admitted and rubbed at his jaw, it felt sore from the force of that yawn.

Malfoy was looking at him with unguarded amusement. "Little tired there, Potter?" He asked with a smirk.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I should let you rest." He said, looking closely at Malfoy's face. The other boy certainly looked like he needed a good night's sleep, and here Harry was keeping him up all night talking. He was glad to have done so, but he did feel a bit guilty for keeping Malfoy from getting much needed sleep.

"You should." Malfoy said, raising his chin and reminding Harry that this was the same person he had been rivals with for the last six years. "First you nearly murder me, and now you're keeping me from my recovery rest. Some hero you're turning out to be."

Harry just shook his head with a laugh, Malfoy's haughtiness, when not malicious, was pretty funny. "Sorry," he said with a small smile.

"Oh, I'm sure." Malfoy said, tone laced with sarcasm. He scooted down the bed so he was lying down again and kicked at Harry at the foot of the bed. "Now go away and let me sleep."

Harry got up off the bed and slipped his shoes back on. Before he swung his cloak over his shoulders he turned back to look at Malfoy again. "You're not going to change your mind in the morning?" He asked, still afraid that once he stepped out of the hospital wing Malfoy would decide that it wouldn’t be worth it and continue on his doomed path.

Malfoy turned onto his side and regarded Harry for a long moment, his expression oddly curious. “No,” he said after a long quiet moment where Harry could count the breaths between them, had he wished to. “No. I want to live.” His hand came up to press lightly against his chest, and Harry wondered if he was still sore. It seemed likely, since the marks were still red. The hot pool of guilt that had quieted in his gut reared up again. He’d been so foolish. “But we should keep it quiet.” Malfoy added, his grey eyes searching Harry’s face for agreement.

“Yes,” Harry said readily, there was no need to let anyone know what had transpired here tonight except for those who most needed to. “I can come by with Hermione and Ron before class tomorrow--”

“No,” Malfoy shook his head immediately. “Come after, and make sure no one thinks you are coming to see me. I have off from classes tomorrow and well, I need to make a scene about how injured I am.” Malfoy smiled a little then, “You know, just to make sure everything seems normal.”

Harry nodded, “I’m sure that’ll be very difficult for you,” he intoned seriously.

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Malfoy’s throat and he waved Harry off saying, “Get out of here.”

With a sweep of his arm Harry pulled his cloak fully over himself and heard the sharp intake of breath from Malfoy when he disappeared from sight. “Goodnight, Malfoy,” Harry said and then stepped out of the silencing charm’s range and made his way out of the hospital wing.

The walk from the hospital wing back to Gryffindor tower felt much lighter than on the way down. Harry knew that the war was building, and from here it was only going to get worse for a while, but he felt hopeful about it for the first time in a long time. Malfoy wanted to come to his side of the war, _his side_. He felt a similar rush of triumph and terror as he did when he faced and beat the Hungarian Horntail two years ago.

Harry whispered the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady and slipped into the common room with a stifled snort of laughter at his own comparison. The dorm seemed to be asleep, and Harry quietly made his way back to his bed, eager to get under his covers. He felt like he could actually get some sleep now.

The next morning he stalled Ron and Hermione on the way down to breakfast, needing to explain to them what had happened the night before. He pulled them off into an alcove away from the main corridors.

“All right, all right, what is it Harry?” Hermione asked, irritably pulling a lock of hair away from her face.

Harry made sure no one had followed them before putting a silencing charm around them, drawing perplexed looks from Ron and Hermione for doing so. “Okay, so you know how I cursed Malfoy yesterday?”

“Yeah, that was pretty scary.” Ron said, shifting his bookbag on his shoulder and looking vaguely uncomfortable.

Hermione shot Harry a glare, “Yes, of course. Did you get rid of the book?”

“That’s not important,” Harry said, waving her off. Hermione looked like she was ready to chew him out for brushing her off so quickly. “No, really. I went to the hospital wing last night to see how he was doing.”

“Is he--” Hermione looked at Harry carefully, “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry said in a breath. “I thought I’d killed him, even when I saw him first in the hospital wing. He just didn’t look alive.” Harry trailed off, getting lost in thought of what could have happened.

“But you said he was okay,” Ron interrupted. “So what happened?”

Harry tugged at his hair, “I apologized.”

At that, Ron let out a sharp laugh. “You apologized? To Malfoy?”

“Well, yeah, I almost killed him.” Harry shrugged, “Seemed like the right thing to do, you know?”

Ron nodded then, and Hermione said, “Yeah, I guess so.” Looking a bit like she wasn’t sure she really agreed with him. “What did he say?”

Harry thought back to how angry Malfoy had been with him, “We talked for a while,” he said and didn’t really know how to brief Ron and Hermione about all they talked about. Right now he could feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at his shoulders after getting so little sleep last night, thanks to how long they spoke for. Ron and Hermione were looking at him avidly, waiting for him to say more so Harry settled on, “He wants to come to our side.”

“What?” Ron asked, laughing incredulously. “No, pull the other one, mate.”

Despite how much he wanted them to believe him, he couldn’t help grinning at Ron’s reaction. “Yeah, it’s true. We talked for hours. He said he wants to be on my side, not Dumbledore’s. I told him we’d have to talk to you guys.” Harry spoke earnestly, it was important that they were with him in this, and he knew it would be an uphill battle for all of them. It wasn’t like Malfoy was suddenly not going to say horrible things, or think the things he’d been taught living with his awful father, but Harry had seen a spark of something good in him last night and he wasn’t about to let that get snuffed out. No matter how hard Malfoy’s father might try. Or Voldemort.

Hermione shifted on her feet and gave Harry a worried look, “I don’t know Harry, this is Malfoy we’re talking about. Are you sure he even meant anything he said?”

“And what did he say anyway?” Ron asked, and grinned when Hermione shot him an approving look.

“Just that, he said he wants to be on my side since he thinks I’m less manipulative than Dumbledore. And he wants to stay alive.” Harry said with a shrug, and when neither Ron nor Hermione immediately objected to calling Dumbledore manipulative something small and hopeful flickered inside Harry. “I asked him if he’d change his mind, he seems pretty serious about it.” Now he shifted on his feet, he felt like he was waiting for an uproar of rejection from them for even offering Malfoy the opportunity to come to their side. “I said we would find a way to stop by the hospital wing after classes, but in a way so no one thinks we’re visiting him. Are you guys in?”

Ron and Hermione shared a speaking look that Harry couldn’t really interpret but worried that it was something about finding a way to convince him he was losing his mind.

“Harry,” Hermione said at last, giving him a hard look, “It’s just a lot to take in.”

“It’s Malfoy, it’s just weird thinking he’d want to switch sides at all, y’know?” Ron added with a earnest look. “You’re sure he’s not setting us up for a trap?”

Harry couldn’t help grinning when Ron said, “us,” he knew then that even if they weren’t on the same page as believing Malfoy, at least they were with him about checking it out. “I can’t be sure, no, but I don’t think he is. He certainly didn’t seem like it.”

They shared another look that had Hermione letting out a frustrated huff of breath. “Okay, fine Harry, we’ll go with you after class. It doesn’t mean I trust him, or believe him.” Hermione said crossly, but then added, “But I would like to believe you.”

“Thanks,” Harry grinned. He knew he was lucky to have the both of them as friends, and having them trust him like this just reminded him of his fortune.

Luckily Ron had a few experiments the twins were still working on before they could put them up for sale, so he gave one to Harry after the end of their last class that made Harry’s skin turn blue and slimy. He and Hermione had no trouble rushing Harry off to the hospital wing, no one wanted to get in their way in case touching Harry would give them the same symptoms.

Madam Pomfrey did not seem too keen on letting Ron and Hermione hang around the hospital wing while she tried to cure Harry. Except then a slew of first years came pouring in sprouting feathers and skin turned various unnatural colors, thanks to a handful of other experiments Ron had been holding onto. Harry downed the potion she gave him and was soon to rights, and since she had her hands full with the first years he was able to slip away from her, unnoticed.

They hurried over to Malfoy’s bed, which was now behind a privacy curtain that Madam Pomfrey must have thrown up earlier in the day. It was lucky for them, as Harry had just planned on throwing his cloak over Malfoy and sneaking him out of the hospital wing so they could all talk somewhere more private. Now they could sit in with Malfoy for a short time at least.

He was sitting up on his bed when they ducked in behind the curtain and seemed to be regarding them with amusement. Harry quickly encased them all in a silencing charm, and Hermione layered on a notice-me-not spell over the curtains, to give them a little more time.

“Impressive,” Malfoy said with a smirk, nodding his head to the commotion just outside the curtains.

“Why do you want to come to our side?” Ron asked immediately, foregoing any niceties.

Harry noticed Hermione’s faint smile when she turned around, but then turned his attention over to Malfoy who was looking a little taken aback by Ron’s direct approach.

“I see we’re not beating around the bush today, are we Weasley?” Malfoy asked, his smirk still in place. He lifted his hand up to inspect it for a moment, and Harry felt Ron stiffen beside him at the apparent dismissal, and he couldn’t help his inner groan. _Of course_ Malfoy couldn’t just be upfront about his motives, and _of course_ he’d be a complete prick to rile Ron up.

Harry stepped forward, not in the mood to have to break up a fight between them, and knowing they didn’t have time for it now anyway. “Malfoy, come on,” he said, shooting a stern look at him.

“Oh, fine,” Malfoy said with a sigh, his eyes snapping up to Harry immediately. “Yes, I see Potter already told you about how he kept me up _all night_ after nearly murdering me.”

Hermione let out a huff of breath and crossed her arms over her chest, “And yet you’ve told him you want to be on his side. I find it rather curious.”

"You would, wouldn't you?" Malfoy asked snidely.

"Malfoy." Harry snapped. "So were you lying then? Have you changed your mind?" He asked, glaring down at the boy on the bed.

Malfoy looked down briefly and bit his lip. "No," he said after a long moment where Harry was nearly sure Ron and Hermione were going to walk out. "No I haven't," he repeated, voice stronger as he looked up into Harry's eyes. He wore a look of fragility that made Harry feel a swelling wash of sympathy for him.

"So work with us, Malfoy. Stop being such an idiot." Harry said, his voice soft as he held Malfoy's gaze.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Malfoy nodded and let out a long sigh of air He looked past Harry at Ron and Hermione then and said, "I want to come to your side," in a rush of breath.

Hermione tensed even more next to Harry, but it was Ron who took a step toward Malfoy's bed. "No tricks?" He asked, his gaze assessing Malfoy carefully.

Malfoy lifted his chin again but instead of taking on the offensive like his posture made Harry think he would, he just said, "No tricks. I intend to survive this war and it seems yours is the best side to get through alive."

Ron nodded, "All right, we'll need more than just your word, but for now," and here he turned to address Hermione, "I think he means it." Ron's voice was full of surprise that he was speaking in favor of Malfoy. He caught Harry's eye then and gave a bemused shrug that made Harry want to laugh.

"But why?" Hermione asked, hugging herself tightly. "You've always hated us. All of us. Why did you change your mind?"

"I take it Potter didn't tell you everything he kept me up talking about then?" Malfoy asked with a curious look in Harry's direction.  

"Not much, no. Harry mainly just told us you wanted to work with us now." Ron said, giving Malfoy a look like he was planning how to win a game of chess--it was a look Harry was very familiar with. "So why then? What made you change your mind?"

Malfoy let out an odd sounding laugh then, his eyes still on Harry when he said, "You won't believe me, but Potter did."

Harry blinked and felt oddly warm. He had figured Malfoy was already on the fence about his loyalties and that was why it had been so easy to talk to him yesterday, but to hear that he changed his mind because of Harry? Harry didn't know what to do with that. "Why?" He asked, the word a whisper of air.

"Because they wouldn't care." Malfoy said, his eyes steady on Harry's, and Harry understood then--he hadn't been why Malfoy wanted to change sides, he'd obviously been observing and questioning but it was Harry who lit the spark for him that set fire to the need to change.

At least, Harry was nearly sure that's what Malfoy meant. It was hard to tell.

Hermione was looking between Harry and Malfoy with a calculating look in her eye, Ron however just nodded like he understood. “Harry can be pretty convincing,” he said and grinned at Harry. Harry could only grin back, it was always nice to have Ron at his back.

“We don’t have a lot of time before Pomfrey will get suspicious about the charms around your bed,” Hermione said, looking back toward the curtains around them nervously. “We should meet up with you later to decide where to go from here.”

Harry nodded, Hermione was right, Pomfrey would not be occupied by the Weasley’s trick candies for long. “What about in the Room, later tonight?” he asked, looking back at his two best friends. Hermione still seemed very hesitant about trusting Malfoy at all, but Ron seemed to be on board to find out more at the very least. But after a moment they both nodded, and Harry turned expectantly to Malfoy who was just looking at him in confusion.

“What room?” he asked after a minute. Harry shrugged, he knew Malfoy was familiar with the Room.

 

Which was how he ended up sneaking out of the dorms after curfew for the second night in a row, this time with Ron and Hermione in tow. They made their way up to the corridor in front of the Room of Requirement, narrowly skirting around a snoring Peeves by one of the staircases, and Harry started pacing in front of the door. As he was walking, one of the shadows on the wall peeled away, and Malfoy stepped over to their little group. Harry knew that whatever he was working on for his mission was somewhere behind the door, but they needed to figure out a plan before he went in and destroyed what Malfoy had been working on.

Instead, the door opened to a cozy room with plush sofas and chairs and a nice warm hearth with a merry fire burning away inside. Harry held the door open for the others to file in before he entered.

He bit back a grin when he saw Ron and Hermione sit on the same sofa, but warily kept themselves at a respectable distance. Malfoy took one of the plush chair for himself and Harry chose one between him and the others.

“We need a plan,” Harry said when he sat down.

Malfoy nodded, but Ron shook his head. “First we need to know what you know, Harry. What’d he tell you?”

Harry found him in the unusual position of sharing a look with Malfoy, who nodded to him. “He has a mission from Voldemort.”

Hermione let out a hiss of breath at that and looked upon Malfoy with accusatory eyes, “You’re Marked, aren’t you?”

Immediately, Malfoy’s right hand wrapped around his left forearm, and he met her gaze with alarm. “How did you know?” he whispered and right then Harry felt a moment of both triumph and sorrow--Malfoy had already pledged himself to Voldemort, he’d been right. Harry now knew it would be a lot more complicated than just Malfoy wanting to switch sides and doing it, he’d suspected as much, but to have it confirmed with Malfoy rolling up his sleeve to bare his arm to them felt a bit like a blow. He had tilted his head down, making his hair fall in front of his face as though it could shield him from his own shame.

“Oh,” Harry said in a small breath as he looked upon the black stain on Malfoy’s white skin. It looked even more dramatic than Snape’s or Crouch’s, it was so black and it looked _angry_.

“You were a bit late to save me, Potter,” Malfoy said with a snap of his teeth as he looked up at Harry, his eyes burning. “I suppose I’ve already doomed myself then?” he asked, taking in the shocked faces Harry and the others wore.

“No,” Harry said vehemently. “No. We’ll find a way.” He knew then that he would find a way to undo Voldemort’s marking, if he needed to to keep Malfoy from becoming another grave he had to feel guilty over, he’d do it.

Hermione was looking at Malfoy’s Mark with open curiosity, “I wonder if it can be made over,” she mused and Harry again felt eternally grateful they were his friends. Then she blinked and came back to the present and asked, “So what is the mission?”

Malfoy covered the Mark with his palm and said quietly, “I have to kill Dumbledore.”

Ron leaned back against the couch and let out a laugh, “You’re joking right? _You_ can’t kill Dumbledore.” he scoffed.

Malfoy bristled in his seat, “I’m not joking. My task is to kill him.”

“It’s an impossible task,” Harry said, watching his friends carefully for how they were taking this. “I’m pretty sure Malfoy is meant to fail.”

Pulling a lock of hair back from her face, Hermione nodded, “He’d view what happened at the Ministry last summer as a failing on Lucius Malfoy’s part, of course.” Then she turned eyes full of sympathy at Malfoy, and whispered, “And you’re the punishment.”

“Merlin,” Ron breathed and sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he looked at Malfoy. “So what do you want to do, then? You gonna come fully to our side? Or will you try to spy?”

“I’m--” Malfoy rolled his sleeve back down over his arm and bit his lip again, “I’m not sure.” He looked up over at Harry and said, “Potter said something about figuring out a way to make it seem like I’d completed the mission, but I don’t know how that could be done.”

Harry just shrugged, “Well, Ron’s right though, it depends on what you want to do. There’s no reason to go through the ruse if you don’t want to keep a cover.”

Malfoy let out a long breath and leaned forward, putting his face in his hands. “Do I have to decide right now?” he mumbled, his face still buried.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shared a look and then Hermione scooted a little closer on the couch to Malfoy’s chair. “Not tonight, no. My mom says you shouldn’t make big decisions without a good night’s sleep, and from what I understand you haven’t had one. But you will have to decide soon.” When Malfoy peeked through his hands at her, Harry was glad to see her giving him a tentative smile. “We’ll be glad to have you, even if you decide not to spy.” She tugged on a lock of hair and shot Harry a nervous glance.

All he could do was smile at her, she was taking this whole thing far better than he ever expected. “Yeah, think on it a bit. You have time.” When Malfoy shot him an incredulous look Harry let out a laugh, “Okay, not a lot of time, but you have enough to think about what you want to do at least.”

“You would be the most useful as a spy though,” Ron said, still sitting forward and watching Malfoy carefully. “What?” he said when they all looked at him, “It’s true, we need someone on the inside.”

“Ron’s right,” Hermione said after a moment. “But if it’s something you don’t think you can or want to do, we can’t force you.”

Malfoy nodded and pursed his lips, staring down at the floor where the firelight cast flickering shadows. “I know. I can let you know tomorrow, I think I’ll know then.”

“Whatever works for you, Malfoy.” Harry said and looked over to Hermione who nodded in agreement.

“Sure, once we know what you want to do we can make some plans.” Ron clapped his hands together and stood up, “Is that all we need to go through now?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said and waved a hand, but didn’t stand up.

Hermione stood and started for the door with Ron, but paused when she realized Harry wasn’t with them and asked, “Are you coming, Harry?”

“I’ll be up in a minute,” Harry said, waving her off as he stood and walked over to Malfoy, who was now looking up at him in surprise.

They left for the Gryffindor dorms, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy. He stopped at Malfoy's chair and held out his hand.

"What is it, Potter?" Malfoy asked, eyeing Harry's hand warily.

Harry just grinned and kept his hand out, "Come on, I wanna show you something."

Still eyeing Harry with suspicion, Malfoy took his hand. "Now?" He asked as he stood and faced Harry.

"Yeah, why not? It's Saturday tomorrow." Harry said with a shrug and then pulled Malfoy toward the door.

"Stop manhandling me Potter and tell me where we're going!" Malfoy demanded, pulling his hand out of Harry's grasp.

Harry laughed and pulled his cloak out, preparing to wrap it around both of them. He didn't really know why he wanted to spend more time with Malfoy right now. He still felt like he was on a high from having Malfoy want to switch sides. As though anything could be possible right in this moment. He wondered if this was what taking felix felicis felt like. "Come on, you want to be on my side? You're going to have to develop a bit of a sense of adventure." Malfoy let out an indignant yelp when Harry pulled him close enough to wrap them both under the invisibility cloak.

Malfoy had his mouth open to object to Harry's rough treatment, but he snapped it closed once he was under the cloak. Instead, he lifted a hand to reverently touch the material. "Oh, this is gorgeous," he said quietly.

Harry grinned and started herding them out into the hall. "Just stick close and it'll keep us both covered," he whispered as they started walking, Harry in the front and Malfoy a step behind.

It took some careful maneuvering, and quite a bit of stumbling into each other--Harry, Ron and Hermione were far more used to sharing the cramped space under the cloak, and Malfoy kept walking on Harry’s heels. Finally they were walking up the curving stairs of the clock tower. Harry had found his way up here earlier in the year, and by chance it was during one of his sleepless nights while thinking about how he could have saved Sirius, and he’d stayed up here until sunrise.

Which was why he was bringing Malfoy up here now. There was something very serene about watching the sunrise from up here, and he figured Malfoy could use somewhere quiet to help him think over the decision he had before him.

“What are we doing up here?” Malfoy asked, peering around in the dark after Harry took the cloak off of them.

Harry folded the cloak under one arm and walked over to where he could look out of the clock’s giant face and onto the blue hue the Hogwarts grounds had taken on this early in the morning. “It’s nice and quiet up here,” Harry started to explain. He could feel more than see Malfoy stepping closer to him to look out of the clock’s face as well. “And it’s nice when the sun rises.” Then Harry turned to Malfoy and regarded him seriously and said, “You have a big decision to make, Malfoy. I don’t think either choice will be easy, but you need to figure out which will be the best for you.”

Malfoy turned from checking out the grounds to look at Harry, “And you’re really not going to try to convince me to spy for you?” he asked with disbelief.

Harry shrugged, “I figure if I tried to force you, not only would you fight me the whole time and be a terrible spy, but you’d likely turn away from my side completely.”

Malfoy nodded then and turned back to looking out to the grounds. “Good to know you’re smarter about all of this,” he said with a vague wave of his hand, “than you are about potions. Or,” he gave Harry a wry look, “using spells you don’t understand.”

Shame burned swiftly through Harry and he nodded. “I can leave you alone up here to think, if you’d like.” he offered, ready to leave. He couldn’t imagine that Malfoy would want to spend even more time with him.

“No,” Malfoy said after a long moment, his voice as soft as the blue light outside. “No, stay and watch the sunrise with me.”

"Really?" Harry asked, turning to fully face Malfoy now. "I thought you'd want time to sort this stuff out alone."

"I do." Malfoy agreed with a nod. "But I want to do this, too." He turned to give Harry a soft look that had Harry's heart flip over in a most confusing fashion.

"Okay," Harry said, his voice cracking just enough to make a smirk tease at Malfoy's lips. Harry cleared his throat, certain he must be flushing deeply.

Instead of dwelling on his embarrassment, Harry climbed up onto the ledge of the face of the clock and sat leaning against the curve of the wall so he could look outside more comfortably. Malfoy watched him for a minute before he climbed up too, mirroring Harry's position on the other side.

They sat quietly, talking a little, as the sun peeked up over the horizon. First it gave itself away by lightening the blue tinged world of early morn to a soft yellow, then it burst forth in vibrant pinks and reds and turned the dark night sky to baby blue. There was something about seeing the sun come up, seeing the first rays of light touch the world, that filled Harry’s chest with warm hope. He didn’t know where they were going, or what he could even expect from the war that was looming ahead like thick storm clouds. Harry couldn’t tell from one day to the next what could be ahead of him, but right now he felt like he had some weight lift off his shoulders. That he was able to sit here peacefully with the boy he’d been rivals with for years, that the same boy wanted to come to his side of the war they were destined to fight on opposite sides. Seeing Malfoy sitting there, his soft slightly melancholy expression getting more revealed with the rising sun, it gave Harry hope that maybe even though he felt like he didn’t know what he was doing most of the time--that maybe they could win this. Maybe they could all come out of it alive.

Harry swallowed hard around a lump that had formed in his throat and looked back out onto the school grounds as they woke up with the day. Malfoy shifted across from him and stretched out one leg to nudge at Harry’s sprawled legs.

“Hey,” he said and Harry looked back over to him to see his face pulled tight with a resolute expression. “I’ll be your spy,” Malfoy said once he saw he had Harry’s full attention.

The breath left Harry’s lungs in one fell swoop. “You will?” he rasped out, breathless. This wasn’t a small decision. Harry wasn’t sure Malfoy had regarded it as seriously as he needed to. “You realize you’d be risking your life?” he asked, needing to know that Malfoy had at least thought of the risk.

“I’ll be risking it openly joining your side as well. This way at least I can give you intel from the inside that you couldn’t get otherwise.” Malfoy pursed his lips and looked back outside again. “I thought it was an honor, you know, getting asked to take the Mark first out of all the others in my year. That I was going on to great things by taking allegiance with him. Then he gave me a task, a mission, just for me. And I thought it was because he trusted that I, above all others, could get it done.” Harry saw him start to play with the cuffs of his shirt, and he couldn’t help quirking a small smile at seeing this vulnerable, human side of Malfoy. The other boy let out a sigh and looked at Harry again. “I was mistaken.” he said gravely. Then his eyes flashed in anger, “And I will be no one’s tool, so if pretending I am still loyal to him in order to help destroy him is where I will be most useful, then that is what I want to do.”

“Okay,” Harry said, fascinated a little by the small nervous movements of Malfoy’s hands. “Okay, if that’s what you want. I think I understand.” He looked at where the Mark was covered by Malfoy’s sleeve, “We’ll have to figure out something to do about that though. I think it gives him too much control.” Harry explained, and felt a little badly since he knew that no connection forged by Voldemort with his followers would grant him the kind of access he had right into Harry’s mind from his scar. But it was different, and he knew it wasn’t time to let Malfoy know about that, if there ever would be a time.

Malfoy closed his hand around his left forearm, holding it tightly over the Mark. “You can’t alter it, or he’ll know.”

Harry knew what Malfoy meant, but he had a feeling that if they all worked on it they could find a way to override the Mark without Voldemort ever knowing. It wouldn’t be easy, but then Harry thought, when had things ever been easy with regards to Voldemort. “We can do it, we’ll find a way,” he said with what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

A small surprised laugh erupted from Malfoy’s chest and he gave Harry a tentative smile back, “You really are obnoxiously hopeful, aren’t you?”

Harry shrugged, “Not all the time, no.” He looked back out the clock face, the sun was still low in the sky yet, but the day had certainly begun. So far there were only a  few flat clouds littering the lightened blue sky, it looked like it would be a pleasant day at the very least. Harry hoped the day would unfold in a way that lived to the promise the morning had brought.

Malfoy rose from his seated position and leapt off the ledge of the clock face, lifting his arms as he stretched. “We’ll have to plan how to make it seem like my mission was a success.”

Harry quickly stood to join him, feeling put off a little by how much taller Malfoy seemed when Harry was sitting down. It was already unnerving when he had realized Malfoy had grown so much taller than him, this was even worse. “We’re going to have to talk to Dumbledore, you realize.”

“I figured as much,” Malfoy said with a small frown. “But I hope you remember I’m not becoming one of his pawns.”

“I know,” Harry said with a nod, “If we’re going to try to falsify his death though, he’ll need to be involved.”

“Fine,” Malfoy sneered at the prospect, but at least he was agreeing. He smoothed his hands over his trousers, flattening out the wrinkles they’d gotten and nodded vaguely at Harry. “All right, we can go see him. But before we do, there’s something I need to do.” Malfoy said and rocked forward on his heels a little. He was giving Harry an odd look that Harry couldn’t decipher. Then he stepped forward and was right in Harry’s space, this close the height difference between them felt even more dramatic, Harry went to take a step back, but Malfoy swiftly reached out and wrapped a hand around his arm to stop him.

They stared at each other for a moment, Malfoy looming over Harry. There was something in the way he was looking at Harry that entranced him. Then, just as quickly as Malfoy had crowded him, he leaned in even closer and pressed his lips to Harry’s in one smooth movement.

Harry was frozen. He was far too shocked to move. Malfoy’s lips were soft and warm on his, and his clean and spicy scent enveloped Harry an overwhelmed him. He felt warm all over.

Then, just as swiftly, Malfoy stepped back leaving Harry feeling colder and bereft. He looked up at Malfoy, knowing that his confusion was written clearly on his face. Harry clenched his hands into fists and loosened them, should he think of him as Draco now that they’d kissed? Oh merlin, he just kissed _Malfoy_. Harry felt like something inside of him was breaking apart very slowly.

Malfoy gave Harry a small, self-deprecating smile and stepped away. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he said quietly, looking away from Harry and licking his bottom lip. The movement sent a spark of heat straight down Harry’s spine.

“Oh?” Harry asked, holding himself still as he tried to work out what he was feeling.

“Yeah,” Malfoy nodded shyly. Then he pressed his hands against his sides and nodded again, once. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he said and when he finally met Harry’s eyes again, his own were full of of vulnerability.

Harry couldn’t help lifting a hand up to brush against his lips, still not really sure that had actually happened. Why would Malfoy even _want_ to kiss him? “I don’t--” he started and Malfoy’s expression quickly closed off once more. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, not wanting to push Malfoy away now, especially not now. Not after he’d shown such vulnerability to Harry. Even though Harry didn’t know what he was feeling himself, he couldn’t break the fragile trust that Malfoy had shown him recently.

“You don’t have to say anything Potter,” Malfoy said with an unhappy laugh, “I can see it all in your face.” He straightened and turned away then, “But don’t worry, it won’t change anything.”

“Malfoy--” Harry started, but Malfoy turned and shot him a quieting look.

“Let’s go see Dumbledore,” his said, his voice wavering a little and he started for the stairs that led them down.

Harry knew that they couldn’t just ignore what Malfoy had just revealed to him, they had far too much else to focus on now though. But Harry needed to know what Malfoy meant. How could he have wanted to kiss Harry for a while? Malfoy had already started down the stairs, and Harry hurried to follow.

He caught up with Malfoy part way down the stairs and put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down. Malfoy stopped but didn’t turn around, and that was okay. Harry was pretty sure it would be easier to talk without facing each other. “Why?” he asked quietly to the back of Malfoy’s head.

Malfoy’s shoulders slumped down and he took in a long breath. “Why? Why not?” he said after a minute and let out a laugh. “Who wouldn’t want to kiss the great Harry Potter?”

Harry pulled his hand back, feeling stung. Malfoy had always prodded him and made fun of him for his fame, but he had also always been one of the few who didn’t seem swayed by who he was at all--or by the lies the Prophet printed. “Oh.” he said and decided he didn’t really want to hear more. If Malfoy just wanted to kiss him, like claiming some trophy, Harry didn’t want to hear about it. He started to push past Malfoy on the stairs, eager to get to Dumbledore’s office so they could plan how to make Malfoy into a spy.

But then as he pushed his way onto the same stair as Malfoy, the other boy turned to face him and pushed him against the cramped stairwell. “Didn’t you ever wonder?” Malfoy asked, crowding into Harry’s space again, their faces just inches apart.

“Wonder?” Harry repeated, distracted by how close Malfoy’s mouth was again.

“What it would be like? Instead of fighting with spells and fists?” Malfoy leaned in close enough he could rub his nose against Harry’s cheek. He turned his head a little to press their cheeks together so he could whisper in Harry’s ear, “What it would be like to solve a fight with a softer touch?”

Harry couldn’t help the shudder that ran down his spine from both Malfoy’s words and the way his breath tickled Harry’s ear. “N-no,” Harry said in a stuttered breath. “It’s not--I don’t think about that.”

Malfoy smiled and Harry could feel the way his cheek lifted from where he had it pressed against Harry’s. “No, you probably had much more noble things to think about, I bet. But I wondered, Potter. I’ve wondered for a while. If you’d be a good kisser.” He pulled back a little so his face was just inches from Harry’s again, and Harry could see him lick his lips again, “What you might taste like.”

“Why?” Harry was starting to feel breathless. He didn’t know what to think, he wanted to pull Malfoy closer and kiss him again, but he also wanted to shove him away to get some breathing room. Malfoy’s breath beat against his face and sent another shudder down Harry’s spine.

“Why?” Malfoy repeated. “You’ve always fascinated me, Potter.”

He leaned close again and Harry couldn’t just stand there anymore. Harry reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of Malfoy’s neck, pulling him the rest of the way until their mouths met again. Harry pressed his lips firmly against Malfoy’s, and was surprised when Malfoy’s tongue came out and licked at Harry’s lips. He couldn’t help opening his mouth in surprise at the feeling, and Malfoy took the opportunity to crowd closer and slip his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

Harry felt like he was on fire. Every part of him that Malfoy touched, from the press of his lips, to the warm slide of his tongue against Harry’s, to where he gripped Harry’s shoulders, it was as though Malfoy was igniting Harry’s skin. Not sure what he was doing, but not wanting to be a passive participant, Harry tugged on Malfoy’s hair and used Malfoy’s distraction to lick into his mouth. Harry felt lost, like he was floating away somewhere new, but the roaring fire in his gut told him this was somewhere he wanted to be.

He had never kissed anyone like this before. Any other kiss he had before had not felt this _alive_. It was as though they were still fighting with each other, but Harry found he liked this far more than throwing hexes he didn’t understand fully. Harry’s glasses were digging painfully into his face, but he could not bring himself to care at all when Malfoy’s tongue curled around his--and he should really think of him as Draco now, Harry thought to himself. It seemed strange to think of him by his surname when they had their tongues in each other’s mouths.

Draco pulled back a little, ending the kiss so they could breathe. Harry slowly opened his eyes and found himself charmed by the flush that was staining Draco’s cheeks. That was because of _him_.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry breathed.

Draco’s eyes widened at the use of his first name and a slow smile spread across his face, “So it’s Draco now, is it?” he asked while he squeezed his hands around Harry’s shoulders.

“After a kiss like that?” Harry asked with a laugh, which Draco quickly joined in on.

“Oh, Potter, I am going to have so much fun ruining you.” He said with a smirk and shuffled a little closer, even though Harry had been sure they couldn’t get any closer together.

Harry could only laugh more at that statement, “I think you’ll find it quite the reverse,” he said with a large grin and tugged on Draco’s hair.

He then stepped down to the next step and separated from Draco saying, “Come on, we should go.”

Draco gave him a long look before he nodded and started down the stairs again. They would have time later to explore what had just opened between them. Harry had no doubt that he would make the time, he was both curious and eager to see more of this softer side of Draco--and if it meant more kisses like that well, Harry was certainly game.

 

 


End file.
